


As Birds Return in Spring

by garafthel (sister_wolf)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Past Kili/Tauriel, many types of love, not a BOFA fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 10:36:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1937685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sister_wolf/pseuds/garafthel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tauriel and Legolas, before and after the War of the Ring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Birds Return in Spring

**Author's Note:**

> Though this is primarily a movieverse story, I am filling in some gaps with canon events from the books. It is important to note that this is a Legolas/Tauriel story that does not ignore or dismiss the validity of Kili/Tauriel. I am aware that Elves falling in love twice is generally against Tolkien's canon; however, I am choosing to deliberately reject that aspect of canon.
> 
> translations: 
> 
> mellon nin - my friend; mellon - friend

"I do not like this plan, Legolas. When the Grey Wizard schemes, brave warriors die." Tauriel released the arrow from her bow. The shot flew unerringly across the clearing and imbedded itself in the center of the target. She nocked another arrow, glaring at the target since she could not glare at the true source of her ire. 

Despite Thranduil's oft-repeated complaint that she lacked the patience and decorum to be the wife of a Prince, Tauriel had held her tongue during the Council of Lord Elrond. She was there to observe only, though she had bitten her tongue so hard it almost bled in order to remain silent. She had not objected even when her husband volunteered himself for a suicide mission.

Once they were alone however, she wasted no time in voicing her objections.

"Peace, Tauriel." Legolas laid a hand gently on her forearm, urging her to lower her weapon. "You will destroy the target in your anger and further shame the archers of Imladris with your aim. We should leave them some illusion of their superiority in matters of arms."

She lowered the bow and released the tension on the bowstring, scowling. "I think that the Elves of Imladris would benefit from a reminder that they are not superior in all matters."

"I do not disagree with you." Legolas cocked his head, smiling at her with his eyes. "Walk with me, my love."

They dropped off their bows and quivers in the suite of guest rooms that Elrond had made available to them for their visit. Their long knives they kept sheathed at their hips, despite the disdainful looks they received for their barbaric ways. No true child of Mirkwood would walk unarmed, even in the middle of a supposedly safe and peaceful enclave.

Without any need for discussion, their feet automatically followed the path up to a small terrace near the library, seldom-used and relatively private. They had found this pleasant spot their first day in the valley and retreated to it whenever dealing with the arrogant Elves of Imladris became too frustrating to stand any longer. 

The valley was very beautiful but Tauriel constantly felt as if she had walked unknowingly into someone's garden, even in the "wilder" areas of the valley. Everything about Imladris felt artificial to her. She longed for the harsh, deadly beauty of their forest home.

"What troubles you, Tauriel?" Legolas's bright blue eyes glowed with warmth, but there was a tiny line of concern between his eyebrows.

"It is this plan of Mithrandir's. He deliberately ignores the grave danger into which he will be sending you nigh-unprepared."

"Tauriel, none of us are unaware--"

"Can you truly tell me that the Hobbits understand the danger? They are boys playing at being warriors."

He shook his head, looking chagrined. "I must admit that I cannot."

"The Grey Wizard's schemes will get brave men killed again. Aragorn we know to be a fierce warrior, but this Boromir is entirely unknown and appears to have a grudge against him. I am sure that Gimli son of Gloin is a doughty warrior, but he too--no, do not make that face."

"What face?" Legolas immediately schooled his expression into neutrality.

"That face as if you have bitten into a sour berry. The Dwarves of Erebor are our trading partners and allies."

"So they are, and yet I think it is a partnership best maintained from a distance." With that look of disdain on his face, Legolas resembled his father to an almost disturbing degree. 

She frowned, diverted from the argument for the moment. If Legolas was to face danger with Gimli, he needed to see the Dwarf for his own merits, not bear him resentment for events he had nothing to do with.

Tauriel stepped close to Legolas, resting her hand on his chest above his heart. "My love, sixty years is too long to continue to be jealous of a dead man."

His jaw worked. "You cared for him."

"Yes, I did. I have never denied it. But you are the man who I married, even though it meant defying the will of my King." She met his eyes openly, hiding nothing from him. "I love you."

Common wisdom held that an Elf could only love once in their very long life. Tauriel very much disagreed with that axiom. She had truly loved Kili, even though their time together had been fleeting, and she loved Legolas with no less intensity. When Kili fell at the battle by Erebor's gates she had almost faded, destroyed by grief. Without Legolas's love, she surely would have.

Legolas's shoulders slowly relaxed out of their defensive hunch. "You know that I have never doubted your love for me. Be patient with me a while longer, Tauriel. I will chase this foolish jealousy out of my heart."

"My feelings for Kili were like a spring morning, beautiful but fleeting. You are my summer, my autumn, and my winter." She went up on tiptoes to brush a kiss across his lips. "Do not dislike this Gimli simply because he is of the same line."

His strong hands cradled the small of her back as he looked down at her with a steady regard. "I will not, Tauriel. I swear to you."

"Thank you. Legolas, please tell me that you will be careful. I do not trust Mithrandir not to get one--or more--of you killed."

"I promise." He leaned in at the same moment as she went on tiptoes and they kissed softly, sweetly, like the goodbye they knew they would have to give each other all too soon.

Spotting Elrond's secretary Lindir approaching along the path, Tauriel stepped back from their embrace to a more seemly distance.

The secretary bowed to them. "Prince Legolas, Lord Elrond requests a private word with you."

She and Legolas exchanged a glance, communicating without words their shared curiosity and distrust of Lord Elrond's motivations. That he was wise and far-seeing there was no doubt, but the lord of Imladris had an unfortunate tendency to meddle in affairs that did not concern him.

"Thank you, Lindir. I will join him momentarily." Legolas bent to kiss her briefly on the lips. "My forest sprite," he murmured with a private smile.

"My spoiled princeling," she replied just as quietly. Legolas laughed and they shared another kiss while Lindir politely pretended to be engrossed in examining a flowering shrub. With a lingering stroke of his fingers along the line of her jaw, Legolas murmured his farewells before striding away.

"My lady, the other guests are enjoying refreshments and music on the southern terrace."

"I will join them later. Thank you for the invitation, Lindir."

He nodded precisely and bowed to her again before departing.

Alone, Tauriel allowed her face to fall back into the angry expression she had been attempting to repress ever since she had listened to the Grey Wizard's ridiculous plan. Nine companions would travel halfway across Middle Earth to the heart of the Enemy's territory in order to dispose of the One Ring in the fiery pits of Mount Doom. Nine companions, four of them Hobbits with no training in the warrior's arts, and one of them the man she loved.

"You're thinking of following them, aren't you?"

The sound of Bilbo's voice did not come entirely as a surprise; she had heard from Lord Elrond that the Hobbit was staying in Imladris. She turned to face him already smiling but once she saw him she held onto the expression only through an act of sheer will.

Bilbo was old.

It should not have come as a shock, she knew. They had last seen each other sixty years ago, a lifetime for a mortal.

It was more than the simple physical aging brought on by time, though. Bilbo's soul was worn and tattered, the once bright light of a mortal soul tarnished and darkened. She could not imagine what could have had such a profound effect on him...and then she realized. The One Ring. Bilbo had been holding onto it for decades, had he not? Such an artifact of evil would corrupt its holder eventually, even as genuinely good a person as Bilbo Baggins.

" _Mellon nin_." She knelt to hug him in greeting despite his impatient huff. Bilbo had never liked Tall Folk kneeling to put themselves on his level.

"Oh, do get up." He pretended to scowl at her for a moment before his smile broke through. "Hello, my dear. It has been a while, hasn't it?"

Tauriel tried to smile back at him even as grief rose up and clogged her throat until she felt as if she could hardly breathe.

"Yes, yes I know. I've grown old." Bilbo chuckled, the sound thin and strained. "I'm afraid time has rather caught up to me all at once. But you--you still look exactly the same." His voice faltered and his eyes shone with sudden tears.

"Bilbo..." She knew they were both remembering when they had last seen each other, on a cold winter's day as Kili, Fili, and Thorin were carried through the gates of Erebor to their final resting place deep within the mountain.

Bilbo's shoulders sagged for a moment before he straightened them and said briskly, "Sit down with an old man for a moment, if you do not mind?"

"I would never mind that, _mellon_."

Bilbo carefully settled himself on a low bench with his cane cradled between his hands. She seated herself beside him and waited patiently for him to speak. 

Bilbo cleared his throat. "So, this scheme of Gandalf's."

"The word "scheme" implies that there is an actual plan involved."

"Don't underestimate the old Wizard. He is wise; Gandalf sees things that you and I can only dream of."

"I would not trust Mithrandir with the life of someone I love were the end of days upon us." Her hands clenched on her knees and she felt the familiar well of grief and anger bubbling in her chest.

"I know how you feel, my dear." Bilbo laid his hand on hers, the skin of his fingers feeling as thin and fragile as old parchment. "I took Frodo in after his parents died and we have gotten along together rather well. In truth, he's...well, Frodo is more like a son to me than anything else. So believe me, I understand how difficult it is to trust Gandalf with his life."

"But you are going to tell me that we must put our trust in him nevertheless."

"Yes, I am. You say you would not trust Gandalf if the end of days were upon us--but from what I understand, it very well may be."

"Truthfully? Despite the proof that we have seen, I still find it difficult to believe that the ring you used to escape from King Thranduil's palace is in fact the One Ring."

"Oh, do you mean my old ring?" Bilbo asked, patting the pocket of his waistcoat.

Until that moment, Bilbo's eyes had been clear and his faculties had seemed as sharp as ever despite his advanced age. Once she mentioned the Ring, however, he seemed to go through a sudden decline. His eyes grew vague and confused and his voice was thin and weedy as he said, "I think I lent my ring to Frodo. That was a silly thing to do--it's such a precious thing to me. What was I thinking?"

"You were thinking it was time that someone else took up that burden, old friend." Mithrandir appeared out of nowhere, as was his habit. She had noticed during the Council that the old Wizard looked exactly the same as he had that winter morning sixty years ago. She thought he might even be wearing the same scarf.

Bilbo smiled up at him. "Oh, you're quite right. Of course--I don't know why I was so worried. Frodo will take care of it. Tauriel, I do believe I shall lie down for a while. I'll see you at dinner, my dear."

She murmured something that must have sounded appropriate. Bilbo patted her on the hand again before rising carefully to his feet and slowly walking away down the corridor.

Once Bilbo was out of earshot, Tauriel leapt to her feet and hissed, "What is the matter with him? Do not try to tell me all is well with Bilbo. I saw him, Mithrandir. One minute he was fine and the next he was... _wrong_."

For a moment Mithrandir looked very old and tired. "If you think that what happened to Bilbo is my fault, I cannot deny it. It took me far too long to realize what Bilbo's old ring really was. I regret that more than I can say."

His admission of guilt cooled the heat of her anger and left her feeling hollowed out with grief. "Is there nothing that can be done for Bilbo?"

The old Wizard sighed and rested more of his weight on his staff. "There is nothing that can be done for him in Middle Earth other than to make him comfortable. When this is all over--if we survive it--then there will be a place for Bilbo on a white ship departing for the Undying Lands."

Tauriel nodded slowly. "Make sure that there is. Bilbo deserves so much more than this."

"I know, Tauriel, believe me I do."

There was a long pause in which nothing could be heard but the distant sound of harp music carried on the wind.

"Can you promise me that you will bring him back safely?"

He didn't ask who she meant. "You know that I cannot."

Tauriel crossed her arms over her chest and turned away from him, staring blindly out over the valley. "There was a time not long ago when nothing could have kept me from following the man I love to the gates of Mordor itself to keep him safe." She squared her shoulders and turned to face him again, raising her chin. "But I am not just a mere Guard Captain anymore. I have a responsibility to my people."

"You are concerned about the news Gloin has brought of Sauron's emissary to the Dwarves."

"Dain Ironfoot is an honorable Dwarf and a fine King. He will hold Erebor against the armies of Sauron no matter the cost. My fear is for the resolve of the Men of Dale. Their land is vulnerable to attack from the East and South and the memory of Men is short. I only hope that the long friendship between Mirkwood and the descendants of Bard may give us some sway with King Brand." 

"I hope so as well, for all our sakes. If Dale falls to Sauron, then Mirkwood and Erebor will be in grave peril."

"Agreed." She snorted humorlessly, shaking her head. "And so responsibility will do what all of Thranduil's lecturing on propriety never could: I will stay at home in Mirkwood while my husband travels into danger without me."

"For what it is worth, I think that you are making the right decision." The old Wizard's eyes were deep wells of sadness as he added, "Tauriel...I am truly sorry that I could not save him."

She did not need to ask who he meant, nor could she trust her voice to speak without breaking. Swallowing hard, Tauriel nodded to him once before walking away.

***

A bone-chillingly cold winter gave way to a bleak and muddy spring and at times it seemed as if summer would never come again. 

History would tell of the great battle beneath the trees and the decisive victory of the forces of Mirkwood against the armies of Sauron. The story of the months prior to that battle was rarely told: of increasingly aggressive raids by Orcs, Wargs, and Giant Spiders; of rations and tempers growing short as the normally scattered people of the forest crowded together into the shelter of the palace; of the creeping fear among those few who knew the truth of Frodo's quest that the Ring-Bearer would fail and darkness would fall over Middle Earth. 

In years to come, the bards would sing of King Thranduil's decisive leadership and Lady Tauriel's fierce battle prowess. They could only guess, though, at the fear that had gnawed at both of their hearts all that seemingly endless winter: that Prince Legolas Greenleaf would never return to stand again under the boughs of the Woodland Realm.

Once Mirkwood was safe Thranduil sent Tauriel to assist their neighbors to the East, a separation gladly welcomed by both of them. They had been forced to work closely together during the war and while Tauriel's respect for Thranduil's abilities as a King was never in question, she disagreed vehemently with his methods. Their ability to antagonize each other while working toward the same goal was now near-legendary among the Elves of Mirkwood.

Their losses in Mirkwood had been great, but the damage to Dale had been devastating. The city had been sacked when the Men of Dale had retreated to the shelter of Erebor. Now they faced the daunting task of rebuilding their city and replanting the fields that had been despoiled by the Orcs. 

Tauriel pitched in to help wherever she could, despite the Dale-Men's initial disbelief that the wife of an Elven prince would deign to get her hands dirty. She quickly became fast friends with Tilka, a great-grandaughter of Bard who had inherited the irrepressible spirit and cheerful blue eyes of her namesake Tilda. The other Dale-Women had seemed wary of Tauriel at first, but with Tilka's influence it didn't take them long to begin gossiping easily around her. With her hair pulled back in a single braid and wearing a dress borrowed from Tilka, Tauriel listened quietly to the chatter as the women followed the plows, scattering seeds in the furrows and tamping down the earth.

"Say, Lady Tauriel, isn't that one of your people?" Tilka jerked her head toward the edge of the field, grinning cheekily as she added, "My, but he's a handsome one!"

Tauriel looked up, expecting to see one of the Forest Guards who periodically brought her messages from Thranduil. Time seemed to stop for a moment as instead she saw the tired, travel-worn but beaming face of her husband.

"Legolas!"

She did not remember running across the muddy field to launch herself into his arms, as Tilka would later tease her for doing. All she knew was that her beloved was holding her in his arms as if he would never let go.

Sliding down out of his arms, she cupped her hands around his cheeks and looked closely at him. "You look weary, my love. Did you not take your rest when you reached the palace?"

He shook his head. "When we crossed into Mirkwood I received news from a Forest Guard that you were in Dale. We pressed on without stopping at my father's palace. I could not rest until I returned to your side."

"I am so relieved to see you, love. I was so terribly afraid that you had...fallen." Tears blurred her vision suddenly as she felt the terrible weight on her shoulders lift at last.

"My heart, do not cry. I promised that I would return to you, did I not?" Legolas brushed the tears away from the corners of her eyes with his fingertips. 

There was a quiet shuffling noise and an embarrassed-sounding cough. Tauriel stepped back and noticed for the first time that a Dwarf stood at Legolas's side. She recognized him immediately from the Council of Elrond but she thought that she might have known him for Gloin's son even without that. He was broad-shouldered and keen-eyed, with brilliant red hair and a beard possibly even more bushy than his father's.

"I am so sorry for my rudeness, my friend," Legolas said, switching to Westron. "We will speak in a language that all present can understand."

The Dwarf harrumphed. "Gimli, son of Gloin, at your service," he said, bowing.

"Well met, Gimli. I am Tauriel of Mirkwood."

"Gimli has been the finest companion anyone could ask for and a better friend than I deserve. He has stood by me through thick and thin and saved my life more times than I can count. I am proud to call him my shield-brother." Legolas's eyes held a hint of uncertainty as he waited for her response.

This was not the time to tease him for his dramatic change of heart concerning Dwarves, though the thought of his father's likely reaction was deeply amusing. 

"Then I am proud to call you my brother, shield-brother of my husband," she said, smiling at Gimli's look of surprise.

"Wife of my shield-brother, I am proud to call you my sister." Gimli answered automatically before sputtering for a moment and bursting out with, "How the blazes did you know the proper words?"

"Your cousin Kili told me about shield-brothers. I hope he did not share anything that should have been kept a secret." She glanced at Legolas to try to gauge his response and to her surprise she found him gazing calmly at her, seeming unbothered by the mention of the Dwarf whom he had still thought of as a rival even sixty years after Kili's death.

Gimli chuckled. "No, shield-brothers are not a secret of the Dwarves, though it has been long centuries since a Dwarf has named one of another race his brother. Never expected I'd be shield-brother to a poncy Elf prince!"

Legolas threw back his head and laughed heartily. "And I never thought I would call a hairy, loudmouthed Dwarf my brother." Gimli grumbled good-naturedly, but did not seem offended at all.

"Truly, l await the tale of your journey with baited breath," Tauriel said. Legolas chuckled at her incredulous expression.

"Ach, we'll be needing a good Dwarven ale to wet our whistles for the telling of that tale. Come, I am eager to reach Erebor and taste a fine Dwarven brew once more!"

"My friend, could you tell Arod that we are ready to continue on our way?" Legolas asked.

Gimli stuck his thumbs in his belt and nodded sagely. "Aye, and we won't hurry back too quickly either. I'm sure you'd like a little time with the missus before we get back on the road. My lady Tauriel, a pleasure to meet you," he said with a bow before stomping away.

"Legolas, what happened on your quest? We guessed that the Ring must have been destroyed when the Enemy's army suddenly became demoralized and confused, but we have received no messengers as of yet. Did the rest of your fellowship survive? What of Bilbo's nephew?"

"To fully tell that story will take many hours indeed. I will tell you that all survived save for the Man Boromir. Frodo is as well as can be expected after carrying the Ring, but he is alive."

"I could see how badly it had affected Bilbo to carry it. I am glad to hear that his nephew survived the ordeal." She brushed a kiss across Legolas's lips. "Give me a moment, love. I should let Tilka know that I'm leaving."

Tauriel apologised for leaving them in the lurch but Tilka just laughed and shook her head. "Don't you worry about it, we'll send your belongings in the next wagon to Erebor. My goodness, if I had a husband that handsome returning from the war? You wouldn't see me in public for a week at least. Two if he's _really_ good."

Her ear-tips red with embarrassment, Tauriel returned the Lake-Woman's hug and then hurried back to Legolas's side. He eyed her burning cheeks with curiosity but did not comment.

"Who is Arod?" Tauriel asked as they began to walk slowly arm-in-arm in the direction Gimli had taken.

"He is a proud and noble horse of Rohan who has consented to bear an Elf and a Dwarf upon his back for many long leagues." Legolas gave her a sideways look, his eyes sparkling with good humor as he said, "Come, ask your questions--I can tell you are near to bursting with them."

"All right. When you set out on this journey I had to beg you not to judge Gimli too harshly simply because he is a Dwarf, and one of Durin's line no less. Now you return with him as your shield-brother? Do not misunderstand me--I am pleased to see your friendship, but I am curious as to how it came about."

"The quest put certain things into perspective, my love." They drifted to a halt and Legolas's brow furrowed as he stared into the distance. "I had guarded my father's realm for many long centuries and I had seen death before, but never...never had I realized how quickly it could come to mortals, and yet they are so very brave in the face of death. 

"Gimli was ever steadfast and loyal, even though I was harsh and mistrustful of him at first. He has such a short span of time allotted to him and yet he never hesitated to throw himself into battle in defense of others. Even me, when the only words I had for him were unkind. He is truly one of the best people I have ever known.

"And I understand now..." he trailed off, looking down at his feet.

"Yes? What is it?" She leaned against him and Legolas slid his arm around her waist, pressing his cheek against the top of her head.

"I never truly understood when you said that you loved both of us in different ways. I didn't think...I didn't know that one truly could love two people in different ways, or that the love you bear for one doesn't diminish the love you bear for another."

"And now?" Tauriel asked, watching as Gimli stumped up the road towards them with a white horse gamboling playfully at his heels like a colt.

"Now I must apologize for all the years I acted like a jealous fool, Tauriel."

"Apologies are not necessary, my love." She turned to loop her arms behind his neck as Legolas slid his arms around her waist. "I am simply glad that you have found a true friend and shield-brother in Gimli and that he was there to watch over you when I couldn't be there. And yes," she stood on tip-toes to brush a kiss across his lips, "I am also glad that you will no longer look like you've bitten into a sour berry whenever the subject of Dwarves comes up."

The corners of Legolas's eyes crinkled as he smiled broadly. "Ah, I have missed you so, my forest sprite."

"As I have missed you, my golden prince."

"Not your spoiled princeling?"

She shook her head. "No, I would not call you a princeling anymore."

"But still spoiled?" At her noncommittal shrug, Legolas laughed and kissed her again. 

Gimli and Arod had almost reached them now, though they had been slowed down by the horse's tendency to stop and munch on clover while the Dwarf gesticulated in frustration. Tauriel asked quietly, "Does your father know that his son's shield-brother is a Dwarf?"

Legolas winced. "Not yet. I must confess that I am dreading that particular conversation."

"Oh, come now, it will be most amusing. I cannot wait to see the look on your father's face when we tell him."

"Tell who what?" Gimli asked as he joined them.

Tauriel gave him a conspiratorial grin. "How would you like to make King Thranduil apoplectic with rage?"

"Lass, I would love nothing better."

"Oh no," Legolas groaned. "Now I can see that I've made a terrible mistake introducing the two of you."

Tauriel raised her eyebrows at him. "Why on Arda would you say that?"

"Because you are both unrepentant troublemakers."

"Well, lad, if you didn't want trouble then you shouldn't have collected a pair of troublemakers!"

Legolas tilted his head to the side and sighed pointedly at them as Tauriel and Gimli exchanged a look and then burst into laughter.

"Let us be on our way, then! The sooner we reach Erebor, the sooner I can introduce you to real Dwarven cooking. None of this leaves and berries nonsense. I can almost taste old Bombur's stew now."

Arms intertwined, Tauriel and Legolas followed Gimli down the road towards Erebor with Arod gamboling beside them. 

"Are you not eager to return home, though?" she asked quietly. "We do not need to tarry overlong in Erebor if you do not wish to."

"But my love, I already am home," Legolas said, looking down at her with bright blue eyes full of love. "Home is wherever you are."


End file.
